


Magic Bread

by Anonymous



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom - Susan Kay, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Crack, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Food Kink, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Manipulative Relationship, Masturbation, My First Smut, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:36:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29532084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Erik bakes some magic bread for Christine. A somewhat dark E/C crack fic.
Relationships: Christine Daaé & Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 11
Kudos: 15
Collections: Anonymous





	Magic Bread

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cotesgoat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cotesgoat/gifts), [Mertens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertens/gifts).



> Apparently there is bread made to resemble a man’s genitals. Some of us wondered what Erik would do with that. This is that story.

Christine awoke to the sweet, clean aroma of freshly baked bread. It was odd to smell something so pleasant while being trapped far below ground, in the cellars of the Opera Populaire, where the air was typically stale and foul. She inhaled deeply, feeling a bit nostalgic as memories from her youth replayed in her mind. She rose from the bed, a pang of hunger deep in her gut. She dressed quickly and walked into the kitchen to find Erik waiting by the table. 

  
“Good morning, my dear. I trust you slept well?”  
  
“Yes, the bed was very comfortable Erik, thank you.”  
  
“I am glad Christine. I want you to feel at home here.”  
  
His words made her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t like to think of this awful place as her home. She wished to leave, but she also did not want to make Erik upset, so she continued to smile and acted graciously towards him in the hopes that he would soon release her.   
  
“Are you hungry Christine? I have prepared a special meal for you,” he announced excitedly and gestured to the table before him.  
  
“Yes Erik, I am quite famished.”  
  
Christine could see that Erik had gone to great lengths to prepare this meal for her. The mahogany breakfast table had been covered with a white linen cloth adorned with scalloped edges. The fine china and silverware had been laid out in meticulous fashion. He had brewed a fresh pot of tea and constructed a fruit display that looked almost too beautiful to eat. Christine was overcome and felt even more uncomfortable by the extravagance he lavished upon her. As she inspected the table, Christine noticed there was only one place setting.  
  
“Erik, will I be eating alone,” she asked a little too hopeful.  
  
“Of course not my dear! What kind of host would I be to let my guest eat alone? I simply do not require copious amounts of food, so I did not bother with a place setting for myself. Come, let me serve you,” and he pulled out a chair for her to sit on.   
  
Christine felt queasy but she smiled at him anyway, then took her seat at the table giving no indication that she was less than enthusiastic about having to endure a meal with him gawking at her. As soon as she sat down, Erik began to dote upon her as if she were a child. First, he prepared her tea and then he set before her a plate of fruit taken from the display. Christine didn’t have the heart to tell him that she really didn’t want fruit, especially when he was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to eat it. She picked up a strawberry and took a small bite. Then placed it down gently wiping the corners of her mouth with the napkin Erik had left for her. He was starting at her intently, and she was sure she heard him gasp when she wiped her lips free of the strawberry juice.  
  
“Did you like the fruit Christine,” he asked hopeful, his eyes never leaving her face.  
  
“It was very good. Thank you Erik,” she lied. Christine just wanted to go back to her room.  
  
Suddenly, a bell rang out and Erik jumped up from his seat. “Ah, Christine my special treat is ready,” he stated excitedly, then walked over and opened the door to the oven. The same aroma that she had awoken to, now filled her nostrils again. It was a heavenly scent, and it made her stomach rumble. She could not wait to take a bite into the warm, crispy bread. Her mouth watered in anticipation. Erik returned and placed a silver tray in the middle of the table then took a seat opposite her.  
  
Christine looked at the contents of the tray in confusion. Her brow furrowed, her lips in a straight line, concentrating.  
  
“Is something wrong my dear,” Erik asked nonchalantly.  
  
“It’s just, I’ve never seen bread look quite like this before,” she answered honestly.  
  
“That’s because this is my own secret recipe Christine. It’s my magic bread. I am a magician after all.”  
  
Christine swallowed nervously, then looked back down at the silver platter still trying to figure out what it was she was looking at. It was definitely bread, of that she was certain. The shape was what confused her. The base was wide and slightly rounded and it was covered in black poppy seeds. Attached to the base, extending upward, the bread was shaped like a long, thick stick, but the top resembled the head of a mushroom.  
  
“What is it suppose to be Erik,” Christine asked still confused.  
  
“Why it’s a wand my dear! Every good magician has one.”  
  
“A wand,” she asked skeptically.  
  
“Yes, and when you taste it, it will do all sorts of tricks. Go ahead Christine, do not be shy. Take it into your mouth.”  
  
“Oh I don’t know Erik, it’s just so big. I’m not sure I can fit it all. Perhaps we can share it?”  
  
“No sweet girl, it’s all for you,” and she noticed a hidden gleam in his eye.   
  
Tentatively, Christine reached out and wrapped her hands around the long, thick part of the bread, bringing it forward and placing it into her dish. She cleared some of the stray poppy seeds away, then held it upright by the base. She brought the tip that resembled a mushroom to her lips first and opened her mouth to bite down gently, but as soon as she did so she winced in pain.  
  
“Erik, it’s so hard,” she exclaimed and removed the bread away from her mouth.   
  
“Yes Christine, it’s very hard,” he replied smoothly, staring at her in a slight daze.  
  
“I don’t think I can eat it like this. Perhaps I should cut it with a knife?”  
  
“Nooooo,” he cried out in alarm, reaching out to stop her and she flinched in her seat dropping the bread back onto the plate. He cleared his throat composing himself from his sudden outburst.  
  
“Forgive me my dear but that is not a good idea. My magic bread should never be cut into like that.”  
  
“Then how am I suppose to eat it Erik,” she asked incredulously and a bit frustrated from hunger.  
  
“You need to suck on it Christine, to make it get soft.”  
  
She raised an eyebrow at him.   
  
“You could put butter on it to help. Do you like butter Christine, on your bread that is? I also have a variety of jams if you prefer.”  
  
“Butter is fine,” she replied in a huff. She was getting hungrier by the minute and did not feel like continuing their tete a tete any longer. She just wanted to eat.  
  
Erik got up and procured a little container which he put forth in front of her. “Unfortunately, I seem to have misplaced the butter knives.” His eyes did not meet her face. “You may need to use your fingers.”  
  
Christine did not care, her hunger consumed her. Without another word, she dug her two fingers into the tub of butter and began to lather the bread with it. She moved her hand up and down the long loaf of bread, coating it with the butter until it glistened in the candle light. She was so absorbed in her work, she did not notice that Erik had taken a seat across from her and was watching her with that strange, dazed look again. She did not notice that as her hand worked over the hardened dough, Erik’s hand worked over the hardened shaft between his legs, matching her strokes.  
  
“Erik, do you think this is enough of butter? I can’t wait any longer, I’m so hungry,” she whined.  
  
He gripped the table cloth tightly between his fingers. “Yes Christine, that’s enough butter,” he stammered. “Now, raise the tip of the bread slowly to your lips first. Then use your tongue to moisten it.” She did as he instructed. “That’s good, Christine, just like that,” he purred. “Now take it into your mouth slowly, and suck on it,” he commanded huskily.  
  
Without looking at him, she held the bread by its longest part and let her mouth descend over the top. As she sucked, the sugar from the bread, mixed with the saltiness of the butter, blended together to create an explosion of flavor that made her hum in delight. The harder she sucked, the better the taste and the faster Erik stroked himself under the table, until both of them were moaning in pleasure.  
  
Christine continued to work that stick of bread between her lips for several minutes. Then she pulled it out of her mouth to inspect it for a moment. “Erik it’s working! The bread is starting to get softer,” she said excitedly. “I think a piece might finally break off.”  
  
“Christine,” he called to her in a strangled voice. “That means it’s close now. It will help if you go up and down with your hand while you suck but the most important thing is not to stop!”  
  
“Ok Erik,” she said without looking at him and put the bread back into her mouth. She did exactly what he said, and was nothing less than thorough. She sucked the top, and even improvised a bit, by dragging her tongue up and down the thick loaf to moisten it further, helping her hands to glide across the length of it, just as he had described.   
  
Under the table, Erik had already removed himself from the confines of his pants and was jerking himself steadily into his hand as he watched Christine’s mouth move over the bread again and again. He imagined himself as the bread, plunging deeper and deeper into the warm heat of her moist mouth. Two pumps of his fist, than one more, and he was soaring, as hot, sticky liquid poured over his hands and onto his pants. When he opened his eyes, he saw Christine looking at him, pleased with her efforts. She had finally broken off a piece of the bread.  
  
“Erik this is the most delicious bread I have ever tasted,” she replied with a nearly full mouth.  
  
“I’m glad you think so,”he said languidly.  
  
Suddenly, beautiful music began to fill the room and Christine stopped eating for a moment.  
  
“Erik do you hear that?”  
  
“Here what my dear?”  
  
“The music. It sounds as if it’s coming from the bread!”  
  
“Is it,” he asked, feigning surprise. “Well I did say it was magic bread.”  
  
Christine smiled at him. A real smile, not the fake smiles she had been giving him before. He thought his heart might burst.  
  
Christine was surprised by how much she had enjoyed breakfast and was even more surprised when she heard herself ask him if he would make the magic bread for her again.  
  
“Of course Erik will make it for you, but perhaps next time Christine would enjoy stuffed magic bread.”  
  
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Well I guess it depends on what you want to stuff it with.”  
  
“Hmmm,” he thought for a moment. “How do you feel about skittles?”  
  
Christine giggled, her hunger finally satiated. 

It was a happy ending for both of them.  
  



End file.
